


It's not the end (it's just begun)

by Sevi007



Series: Healing Rain [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Aftermath, Arguments, Family, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family, learning to live, they got to talk some things out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: (Post-AC) It's over, finally over. With the geostigma receeding as the rain falls over Edge City and their enemies banished back into only their memories, it should be a time to rest, and a time to celebrate the life ahead of them. And yet, Tifa cannot truly feel happy; one part of their family is still missing, and after all her arguments with him have failed before, she is not sure if she can ever reach him again...(In which the team has a get-together, old arguments are picked up again, and Cloud will have to learn how to not only fight, but how to live.)
Relationships: Denzel & Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife & Marlene Wallace, Entire Team - Relationship, Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife (hinted)
Series: Healing Rain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719283
Comments: 16
Kudos: 78





	1. War is Won

**Author's Note:**

> Rewatched FFVII: Advent Children recently in my re-discovered passion for the entire Compilation of FFVII, and one thing that just rubbed me wrong was that the argument between Tifa and Cloud was never really resolved, at least in my eyes. Sure, Cloud saved her and was certainly doing better by the end of the movie, but - six months of worrying, of being cut out of his life, is a long-ass time, and Tifa had every right to be angry BEFORE being relieved that he will now try to live.  
> So guess what I had to sit down for and write. XD 
> 
> (This got so long I had to split it! Two-shot incoming!)

_Legacy it still lives on,_

_it's not the end it’s just begun_

_Christ lived in you so the war is won,_

_I have to live my life in your memory,_

_With honor and with grace so you can see,_

_The war is won..._

**\- “War Is Won” by NewLaw**

By the time the oven had finished heating up, the air in the small kitchen was sweltering. Tifa felt sweat gathering on her forehead as if she had just finished an especially furious training set, and finally concede that whipping it off was becoming pointless. A tiny groan in her throat, she crossed the room to throw open the only window and lean out, sighing in relief when the considerably cooler air from outside hit her overheated skin.

Allowing herself a momentary break, she took a deep breath while closing her eyes, inhaling the air with its lingering scent of rain and, very distantly, a hint of flowers. The second bout of rain had begun by the time they had left the church, taking away their lingering aches and pains as they made their way home, and had ended sometime deep in the night, when they had already been sleeping like the dead in piles on the bar’s floor. And still, almost an entire day later, it seemed to linger, seeping into the ground and the air, cleaning and healing whatever it touched.

Ever since she was a child, Tifa had loved the rain and its refreshing, cleansing nature. It symbolized new beginnings and fresh starts to her, and she had always adored that. This rain, however, was especially welcome; like a warm hug, or a smile from a long missed friend.

 _Thank you,_ she thought towards the sky above and the earth below, not for the first time in the past days, _for never leaving us._

“Tifa!” A high voice called from outside over the laughter of children running past. “Tifa!”

Blinking her eyes open, Tifa smiled widely when she recognized the little girl racing towards the window. “Betty! How are you?”

“Fine,” the girl chirped, bouncing excitedly on the tip of her toes to try and look unsuspiciously past the barwoman. “Is Marlene coming to play, too?”

“Probably not today.”

Betty frowned, lips pursing into the beginning of a pout before realization dawned on her face and she brightened again. “Aaaah, right, Barret is home!”

“Yes, exactly,” Tifa felt a wave of relief at the understanding in the child’s voice, and she winked good-naturedly. “She has to catch him up on everything that happened, you know.”

A toothy grin came back; any disappointment Betty had felt before immediately blown away. “’Course! But, but, if she still wants to come play, can you tell her we’re at the new playground? The one the W-R-O built?”

Biting down on the smile threatening to break out – she would _so_ have to repeat the careful pronunciation of the corporation in front of Reeve at some point – Tifa nodded seriously. “Of course I will.”

“You’re the best!” Someone called her name from down the street, and Betty’s head snapped around, body already bouncing in excitement to run off again. “I gotta go! Bye, Tifa!”

“Bye, bye!”

Waving after the girl still when she was already out of sight, Tifa huffed a laugh, light with relief. It was good to hear children’s laughter echoing through Edge’s streets again, after the geostigma incident had laid a blanked of quiet unease and crackling tension over everything for months before.

As if on cue, a loud bark of laughter thundered through the Seventh Heaven, not muffled in the slightest by the wooden kitchen door between her and the bar. More out of instinct than actual annoyance, Tifa rolled her eyes, grinning.

They would never learn to dial it down, those guys.

With a final fond look towards the sky and a shrug – _you know how they get, right?_ – she pushed off the windowsill and stretched before turning around to get back to work. The readied tray of snacks and glasses of juice and water was in reach, and she picked it up and balanced it one-handed with practiced ease while opening the door to the bar with the other hand.

Immediately, chatter and laughter and arguing washed over her like a wave, and her grin only grew. The private gathering was a small one, managing to squeeze around a single table, and they _still_ managed to make as much noise as an entire army. Sometimes it annoyed her, true, but today, she couldn’t help but appreciate the sheer life they brought with it.

They didn’t even notice her at first when she approached the table, too caught up in whatever conversation she had missed out on. Barret was still laughing loudly, head thrown back and hand slapping down onto the table in his mirth, hard enough to make the cutlery jump and rattle. Denzel, squeezed in between the two men with his shoulders drawn up tight until now, seemed to relax a bit at the belly deep joy, a few chuckles escaping him. Meanwhile Cid was trying to talk through his own grin, hands moving about rapidly. Nanaki ducked his head beneath the table just in time to avoid getting smacked squarely on the nose, one ear flicking in annoyance even though he was grinning, all glinting teeth and bright eyes.

The other side of the table seemed nearly quiet in comparison, but only _nearly_. Just when Tifa moved closer, Yuffie sighed so long and deep as if she had the fate of the entire world resting upon her small shoulders, and dropped her chin onto her fist with dramatic exuberance. “Vince, you _do_ now what phones _are for_ , right?” 

“Hm.” Vincent’s gaze slid from the brand-new phone, dwarfed by the gauntlet he held it in, over to the ninja draped all over his shoulder like a second coat. If anything, his expression was even flatter than usual, except for the very telling eyebrow ticking up minutely.

“Great!” Yuffie exclaimed enthusiastically, as if he had answered her in more than a grunt, arms going wide in her cheer and clearly hitting the Ex-Turk in the back of the head. He didn’t even flinch, only blinked slowly. “Then maybe tell me why you _don’t_ want to give me your number? Or the other way around – I’m not picky.”

Vincent’s voice was even as he spoke, tone making it very clear that he thought this all extremely obvious. “This is _my_ phone. _You_ don’t need to call it.”

“Aaaand we’re back to square one,” making a show off letting herself fall all over her friend, Yuffie demanded to know from no one in particular, “Didn’t he just say he knows what phones are for?!”

A very familiar giggle floated up, seemingly out of nowhere, and a small voice agreed, “I’m sure he does.”

Pausing, Tifa cast her searching gaze around the room, trying to pinpoint where exactly Marlene’s voice had just come from. The mystery was only cleared up when Vincent hummed in agreement at the support and shifted his arm, his coat sliding to the side enough that the girl tucked onto the bench and against his side was revealed. Her were feet kicking happily and her arms slung tightly around a still and quiet Cait Sith while she looked up to the arguing Ex-Turk and ninja with twinkling eyes.

Slipping around the table and into the chaos was an effortless, practiced feat, and Tifa leaned past Yuffie’s flailing arm to put one of the glasses down onto the table without spilling a single drop. “Here you go, Marlene, your juice. Yuffie, the same. Vincent, water okay for you?”

“Awesome!”

“Mh. Thanks.” 

“Tifa!” At the sight of her, Marlene poked her head out of her coat-human-fort, waving to get her attention. “Tifa, Cait Sith stopped moving a while ago! Did his battery run out, you think? Does he _have_ a battery? I hope he is not broken!”

“Oh, no, that probably just means Reeve is on his way over.” Tifa answered absentmindedly, mentally already picturing how they would have to change the sitting arrangement to fit everyone around the same table. Or maybe they could just push closer together; they had long since stopped worrying about encroaching into each other’s personal space, after all.

“Oh!” Visibly excited at the thought of even more of their friends coming over, Marlene smiled widely, turning to cuddle Cait closer to her chest. Legs swinging in excitement she carried on, “Then we can take a picture of all of us together, so Vincent can have a nice phone background!”

The expected protest stayed out, and Tifa snuck a quick look at the Ex-Turk while placing his drink on the table. Years of practice in reading even the tiniest movement on a face let her catch the crinkle of a smile around the corner of his eyes where he looked down at the babbling Marlene, and she had to duck her head to hide her own smile. _That_ phone background she would have to see, for sure.

“Does he _know_ how to take a picture?” Yuffie pondered. And immediately scrunched her nose in offense when Vincent sent her a _look_. “Hey, no, don’t give me that, after what you just said about phones-…”

Marlene started giggling helplessly when the two immediately fell back into a –one-sided, audibly at least – argument, and Tifa only huffed in amusement and carried on making her way around the table. She was not needed for this; the two were, after all, supposedly adults, and knew how to behave in front of children.

Mostly, at least.

When his beer was set down in front of him, Barret finally seemed to notice her presence, a grin growing on his face as he reached over, hand landing on her shoulder as heavy and warm as any hug. “Thank you, Tifa! Just what I needed now!”

“Always here for you,” she joked back with a wink and a salute. Her gaze wandered past him to Denzel, who was pink cheeked and bright eyed with laughter. It warmed her heart to finally see him laugh again so freely. “Having fun there, Denzel?”

“Yea!” Accepting his glass from her, he nodded eagerly. “Cid just told us that he jumped on the _Bahamut’s head!_ ”

Everything about him spoke of sheer awe and excitement. Maybe she should have immediately discouraged this notion, since that was _not_ what a kid should strive to imitate, but Tifa could only laugh at his sheer glee over that fact. “Yes, Cid’s pretty cool, isn’t he.”

“Aww, don’cha make me blush now,” the pilot grumped, smiling around his unlit cig while taking the offered drink. “This one here ain’t too bad either!” His hand landed heavy on Denzel’s head, startling a quiet yelp out of the boy. “Big guy told me you were gonna charge at the Bahamuth to protect our Tifa! That takes guts, kid. Respect.”

If anything, Denzel seemed to shrink into himself in embarrassment rather than looking pleased with himself. His muttered answer was nearly lost behind his bangs. “I didn’t do anything though…”

Immediately something protective steered inside Tifa, clamoring to disagree. Yet she didn’t even get her mouth open before Barret fairly thundered, “Bullshit!”

“ _Barret!_ ”

The warning echoed from several people around the table at the same time, and Marlene added, “Daddy, you said no swearing!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” the man ducked his head, only his dark skin masking his full on blush somewhat while he scratched his neck. “Ahem. Meant to say – don’t say something like that, kid. If you did anything or not ‘s not the point here. Point is that you were gonna _fight_ for your family, and that’s what really matters. “

Rustling sounded from under the table, and Nanaki pushed his head nearly into Denzel’s lap to meet the boy’s lowered gaze, eyes serious and voice calm when he explained, “It does not matter if you were the one to strike the final blow, or any blow at all. What matters to us is your brave and good heart.”

A moment of silence passed. Then Denzel’s lips twitched up weakly, eyes maybe a little misty when he swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

The boy hesitated briefly, then he reached out and put a hand on Nanaki’s head, petting softly and eliciting a rumbling poor. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, young one.”

“Hey, wasn’t that basically the same thing _I_ said?” Barret noted, leaning back to glare beneath the table at their friend.

Nanaki blinked innocently back at him, eyes full of glittering mischief. “Sounded nicer when I said it.”

Cid burst into guffaws of laughter at that, and while Barret huffed loudly, he too couldn’t hide the grin crossing his face. “Scamp.”

“Brute,” was immediately fired back, Nanaki’s smile wide and toothy.

Shaking her head in amusement, Tifa bent down between the burly men to lean over Denzel, hands on his shoulder when she pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered only for him to hear, “I think you were super cool, too.”

The smile he directed back at her was brighter than the sunrise even though he blushed wildly at the compliment.

Suddenly, the sound of the bar door swinging open interrupted their merry chatter and laughter. Tifa straightened up immediately, hands still protectively curled around Denzel, to see who had ignored the _Closed_ sign she had hung up early this evening so they wouldn’t be disturbed in their private celebration. Faintly she was aware of the talk around her falling quiet, the rustle of cloth and fur all around making it clear that she wasn’t the only one preparing for anything.

Surely nobody could blame them for being extra careful, after the last few days.

Still her heart beat higher with hope; hope to hear the familiar sound of boots on the creaky wooden floor, and see someone with a mob of spikey blond hair once she looked up.

She had tried calling Cloud, of course; just once, hours after he had left without telling her where he was going, and one hour before the others were due to meet up at the bar. Had debated if she should leave a message, or not, until she had finally settled on reminding him of their planned get-together. As if he could have forgotten, when everyone had been talking about it all day. And still she had somehow thought her voice would be enough to entice him to come back home.

_Silly me._

She really should have known better, by now, right?

And still Tifa had to swallow a disappointed little noise when instead, she heard the also-quite-familiar drawl of “ _Yo!_ Any chance we can get a drink around here?”

“Closed shop!” Barret retorted without missing a beat, no real heat behind it. His hand briefly brushed Tifa’s, seemingly to make it clear he was not going to take the decision away from her.

Reno stopped in his leisurely stride, only a few steps into the bar, and made a show of pressing one hand to his chest in mock hurt. “That how you greet _paying customers?_ That’s-…”

“We can leave,” Elena interrupted whatever her colleague had been about to say. She had hung a few steps behind the redhead, body language defensive, clearly not sure of their welcome. Levelling Reno with a warning glare when he turned to her, she added for good measure. “It’s _fine_.”

“You don’t have to!” Tifa shook her head, both to refute that and to shake the last lingering disappointment, and straightened. One hand found Barret’s shoulder to squeeze it briefly in a _Thanks, it’s fine_ while she addressed the Turks. “Go sit, I will bring you your drinks – the usual for you, Reno, Rude?”

Reno’s grin was a sharp, smug thing when he directed it at Elena first in obvious triumph before turning to Tifa. “Sweet. Elena takes a Cosmo Canyon.”

“I wasn’t going to-…” the blonde started, then obviously decided it wasn’t worth it, and simply shrugged one shoulder with a muttered agreement.

Tifa smiled at the three of them, making sure to include even Rude who hadn’t said a single word yet and was so easy to overlook sometimes, and made to go get their orders. Only Barret’s grumbled words made her stop in her tracks. “You shouldn’t have to work today.”

“They helped us, too, Barret,” she reminded him mildly, quirking a smile when he huffed once more. It made her lean over as she passed him and press a quick peck to his temple. Good old Barret, keeping up his stubborn, hard-to-approach persona up even for people he had already come to grudgingly respect. She knew him too well to fall for it. Had he really been against the Turks regularly frequenting the Seventh Heaven, he would have been much more vocal about it, and Tifa would have thought twice about letting them in. The fact that he _didn’t_ told her enough to know he had already come to the same conclusion as she had, in the last two years: That the world wasn’t as black and white as they once had thought in their grief and anger, and not everyone who had worked for Shinra was automatically an enemy.

Not to mention, Tifa reflected with a smirk while readying the shaker, not to mention that Reno and Rude had turned out to be agreeable customers who tipped extraordinarily well _and_ stepped in readily enough before Tifa could whenever a patron drank too much and got too rowdy for her liking. All good reasons to keep them around.

She had even gotten used to their shenanigans by now, so she only rolled her eyes when she approached the table they had chosen a bit apart from the others and Reno had the gall to waggle his eyebrows at her when he saw her coming. Simply snorting good naturedly over it, Tifa placed his drink before him with more decisiveness than strictly necessary and declared, “On the house.”

Reno’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline and his smirk wavered for a startled second before it got only wider, sharper. Suspicion under a layer of cheerfulness. “Oh? It’s not my birthday yet, right?”

Usually Tifa would have gone along with it; she did not mind the other’s humor one bit, happy to laugh along at particularly well-placed quips or shake her head over the worse ones. But this gesture of hers, small as it was, was sincere and she needed him – all of them - to know that. So she held his gaze without smiling, hands planted firmly on the table top, and answered evenly, “A thank you for your help yesterday.” 

Another waver went over Reno’s expression before he dropped the act entirely, smile dripping off his features with a mournful sigh. He reached for his drink and took a gulp of it before declaring, “You couldn’t have kept quiet about that? Sheesh, you guys sure know how to ruin any good mood.”

There was a breath which sounded suspiciously like a hushed chuckle from Rude, and even Elena cracked a lopsided grin. Tifa laughed and straightened up again, content with her small victory. “Just take the compliment.”

The grumbled answer was lost in the next sip of his drink and she opted to take that as agreement.

She was mid-motion in handing out the respective drinks to Rude and Elena, who were polite enough to actually take them with grace and a nodded thanks, when the front door creaked open again, letting light and cool air in alongside the newcomer.

The table at the other side of the room erupted in cheers and greetings, and Tifa almost tipped Rude’s whiskey over his suit as hope and relief flooded her at the same time at the sound of footsteps into the bar, making her clumsy as her heart jumped into her throat- …

Only to plummet straight down to her feet when she looked up and spotted Reeve entering with a smile, hands raised to half-heartedly fend off the enthusiastic shouts and well-meant pats on the back that would have sent any average man to the ground that rained down on him as soon as he made the mistake of getting into reach.

He was a welcome sight, of course he was – Tifa loved their entire group as deeply as family – but he was the entirely _wrong_ sight right now, anyway. Dark hair and blue eyes a shade too deep, a stark contrast to the blond spikey mess and eyes like the sky which Tifa had been hoping for.

It was hard to shake off the disappointment clogging her throat, gross and sticky like glue. She hoped she managed anyway, years of practice in the face of despair aiding her in forcing a smile onto her face as bright as possible when Reeve’s gaze swung over to her and he waved in her direction. Didn’t answer the gesture, in fear of her hand shaking too much and giving her away. Instead Tifa dug her fingers into the edge of the empty tray tucked her arm until it hurt, and made to turn around and back to the bar counter under the pretense of getting Reeve something to drink as well.

A hand, large and warm, settling hesitantly on her forearm made her stiffen instinctively, adrenaline pulsing through her for a second in expectancy of _defend attack **fight** _before someone cleared their throat gently, soothingly, and she realized just _who_ the hand belonged too.

Still she couldn’t help but stare in mute surprise when she turned around and met Rude’s gaze, of all people. Sunglasses or not, he very clearly waited until their eyes met through the barrier before pulling his hand back and he spoke quietly, near carefully, “I’m sure he’s gonna show up.”

Tifa must have made quite a picture, gaping at the man as she was, but she couldn’t help it; over the course of all their run-ins with the Turks, she had heard the man’s deep voice maybe a handful of very _short_ times, and never directed at her, ever. And to hear him see through her worries so effortlessly, and break his silence to soothe them with a single sentence… _Anybody_ would be floored. Everybody _was_ floored - she was aware, out of the corner of her eyes, of Reno and Elena staring at their partner a well, looking just as surprised as she felt, if not more.

Well, she could at least pride herself of getting over the shock _first,_ aided by the warm feeling of gratefulness welling up inside her. As much as she hated being see through or seeming weak, such a gentle support was welcome any time.

This time her smile was real when she carefully took his retreating hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Rude.”

Rude seemed to freeze under her touch, looking as unsure as he had been looking sure just a second ago, before he nodded and mumbled something that could have passed as a quick _You’re welcome._ It was hard to say in the dim light and with his dark skin and ever-present sunglasses, but Tifa had the fleeting impression that the quiet man was blushing something fierce when he quickly turned to his drink as soon as she released him again. She fervently hoped he didn’t regret his gesture; it had been very sweet and well-timed.

Maybe their second round of the evening would be on the house, as well, Tifa pondered with a little smile while she went to get that drink for Reeve. Behind her back she could hear Reno and Elena immediately start whispering insistently to Rude, and a sound suspiciously like one of those manly slaps to the shoulder Barret was so fond of. It only made her smile wider, shaking her head. Really now.

Returning to her friend’s table, she noted with satisfaction that they _had_ managed to cram together and make space for Reeve and even produce a chair for him, so she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Stepping over Nanaki’s tail with a mumbled warning, she tapped Reeve on the shoulder and greeted him warmly, “Hey, Reeve. Glad you could make it.”

“Tifa. Always good to see you,” his smile was bright when he turned to her, eyes warm, and she knew without a doubt that he meant what he said. It made her swallow a wave of guilt over feeling so let down when it had been only him stepping through the door instead of-…

_Don’t think about it. Everyone else is here. It’s not fair to them._

“Busy day?” She asked over her inner war, and made a sympathetic noise when he pulled a face.

“There’s a lot that needs to be repaired after yesterday. WRO is on it, but it will take time.”

“Reeve,” impulsively, she grabbed his forearm where he was gripping the tumbler too tightly, squeezing it to ease the tension there and draw his attention back to her. “We _have_ time.”

Relieved, she saw the light enter his eyes again and a lopsided smile curl his lips. “Right you are, lass,” Reeve muttered in a startling switch back into Cait’s manner of speech, and Tifa laughed out loud at the dichotomy that caused.

“Gods, you need to do that more often so I can get used to it,” she decided, which made his smile tilt with something like embarrassed pleasure. 

“Hey, stop it with the serious talk, you two,” Cid moved in between them, gratuitously ignoring Tifa’s squawk of laughter when he nearly made her stumble. He slapped Reeve so hard on the back the man basically spit his latest sip back out, and announced, “We ain’t here to talk about work, we’re here to celebrate!”

“I should be more worried about hearing you say things like that,” Reeve muttered while angling for a napkin to wipe his mouth with. “Since I’m the one who pays you.”

Another slap to the back. “Drink and shut up, Tuesti!”

“… then again, maybe I should just be used to it…”

“Now you get it!”

“Tifa?” Marlene’s voice was nearly drowned out by the new bout of laughter around the table, but it had become a kind of second nature to Tifa, hearing the kids no matter how loud it was. She disentangled herself from Cid and leaned across the table to hear the girl, cupping her cheek once she was able to reach. “Yes Marlene?”

“Are we going to eat soon? I’m _starving!”_

“Oh, is _that_ the growling I’ve been hearing? Thought it was a wild animal lurking around!”

“Tifa!”

Laughing, the barkeep pulled back and raised her voice over the overall noise: “What does everyone say to dinner?!”

The agreement was near deafening, and she felt tempted to cover her ears against it. “Okay, _okay_ , I’m on it! Give me a minute!”

“Come sit down once you’re done!” Barret called after her when she crossed the bar in the direction of the kitchen. “We barely got to talk to you all evening!”

Tifa waved over her shoulder and gave a vague might-be-agreement before vanishing into the kitchen.

As soon as the door fell closed behind her, two things happened: First off she found herself enveloped by stifling heat since the open window had apparently helped very little with the air circulation. And second, the moment the noise and bustling from her friends disappeared behind a thin barrier of wood, Tifa felt her smile waver and fall off herself completely, and heavy pressure settle on her chest and behind her eyes, making it hard to breath, and even harder not shed some tears of frustration.

A bite to her bottom lip staved the worst of it off, and she took a deep breath, scorching though the air was, in the hope of easing the pressure on her heart. It didn’t feel as relieving as it should have, but at least she got the threat of tears under control. Still breathing deeply and evenly she reached into her belt pouch and dug her phone out, flipping it open.

No new messages.

Anger bubbled up, pushing the frustration aside somewhat. Tifa huffed out a harsh noise and pushed off the door she had been leaning against, striding across the kitchen.

 _He’s not going to come,_ she told herself forcefully. Slipping a plate under the pizza she had prepared earlier in the day, she opened the oven’s door with one while pushing the plate inside with the other. _Stop hoping, and focus on those who **are** here. _

_Just give up already._


	2. Legacy still lives on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old arguments, new answers.... new promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers very tightly crossed that I didn't get them OOC here 
> 
> (Not beta read yet! Will do that when I get more time)

Something squeaked quietly behind her, and Tifa froze mid-motion of checking the temperature a last time.

Over the oven door slamming shut and lost in her thoughts she had nearly missed it, it was so small and gone so quickly, but the sound was so familiar she would have recognized it anywhere; she had meant to oil the hinges of the backdoor for months now, or ask Cloud to do it – but that had been before the Geostigma, and his longer and longer absences, and it had completely slipped her mind. 

And now the squeaky noise had sounded right behind her, so quiet and furtively that it was immediately clear: Whoever was entering the kitchen from the street behind the bar right now was trying to be sneaky about it.

Most likely old instincts and the recent events were to blame, but Tifa’s pulse immediately spiked, muscles jumping as her body fell instinctively into a basic stance... And the moment she heard almost soundless footsteps right behind her, closing the little distance between her and the newcomer, she _struck_ , whirling while simultaneously throwing a punch at the spot where a possible enemy’s face should be-…

…-only for her fist to land squarely in a gloved palm, being stopped so abruptly and completely as if she had hit a wall of steel.

“Tifa.”

All breath left her in a rush so abruptly she felt nearly dizzy with it once she recognized the bright blue eyes staring back at her from under blond bangs. “ _Cloud!_ ”

His lips ticked up the faintest bit while he gently jostled the fist he still held onto. “Good punch.”

“Oh!” The reminder of what she had been about to do flooded her with hot embarrassment and indignation both at once, and Tifa tugged once, twice, until he released her and she yanked her hand back to her chest, instinctively grasping it with the other while she snapped, “I nearly punched you straight on! Don’t sneak up on me like that, by _Shiva!_ ”

Cloud actually looked sheepish at that, shoulders hunching up a little while he scratched the back of his head. “My bad.”

She had meant to say more, she was sure of it; but the sight of him all apologetic softened something inside her and it became impossibly to grumble further. Tifa breathed a huff of laughter before aiming a playful punch to his upper arm instead (noting the lack of a black, covering sleeve in passing). “I should have given you a black eye for trying such a stunt on me, Strife.” 

The way his stance loosened and his smile returned made her grin widely, herself, and for a moment they simply stood in the small kitchen, smiling at each other.

Until reality settled in again. Suddenly conscious of what they were doing, they cleared their throats at the same time, gazes sliding away from each other as they both looked for something they could be doing with their hands. Tifa grabbed a towel and aimlessly started cleaning her hands with it, while Cloud turned towards the backdoor and rustled around in the corner next to it.

“You’re just in time for dinner! And good thing, too, I’m not sure if there will be leftovers. You know Barret’s appetite alone, and with everyone else…,” Tifa knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it. Every time she drew breath to go on, she was aware of the silence and the crackling tension that filled it, and she couldn’t stand it. So she kept going, hoping to fill the space with noise rather than more pressure. “Can I get you a drink until dinner’s ready? Something strong, or are you in the mood for …?”

She trailed off when she turned around and noticed Cloud looking not at her but at something leaning against the wall next to the backdoor. That in itself wouldn’t have been surprising, since he had never been a big friend of eye contact when he was even the slightest bit uncomfortable. What was confusing, however, was the vaguely familiar shape of the thing at the wall.

It took Tifa a moment of squinting to see past Cloud, and then another to recognize it in its current state, but then it hit. Her sharp intake of breath was way too loud in the tiny kitchen, and she was aware of Cloud’s gaze snapping around to her.

“I thought it…,” Tifa started, letting the towel drop from her hands onto the table without taking her eyes of the Buster Sword. It was in a horrible state, she could tell that much, no matter how little knowledge on swords she had; its entire surface, once gleaming steel, was caked reddish-brown with rust and dirt, and its edge seemed dull even from this distance.

“… I thought it was lost,” she finished quietly, and the moment she said it out loud, she knew how silly that had been. Of course it hadn’t been; Cloud wouldn’t have known any rest until he had gotten it back if it did.

It hadn’t been lost, Tifa knew the moment she saw the flicker of guilt-pain-shame in Cloud’s eyes before his gaze dropped back to the ground, it had been hidden away so he didn’t have to look at it and _remember_.

Her heart gave a painful lurch and she wished she could take her words back but it was too late. _This whole time we were mourning and healing, and you didn’t even dare to remember them with anything but guilt._ _Oh Cloud…_

“It deserves better,” Cloud’s quiet voice startled her out of her realization. He still wasn’t looking at her, and not at the sword anymore, either, gaze stubbornly directed to the tips of his boots. At least his voice was sure; Tifa didn’t think she could have taken it had it been trembling the tiniest bit. “I will clean it up and… find a place for it. A good one, not…”

He didn’t seem to know how to finish his sentence and instead made a short motion with his hand. _You know._

Vaguely, Tifa wondered why he couldn’t look at her while telling her this. He couldn’t possibly think she would _blame_ him for this? But then, their last real conversation had been an argument where she had blamed him, for an entirely different reason. She had been right, she was still sure she had been, and it had needed to be said, but…

She stopped that train of thought before it could spiral down further. What had been done couldn’t be undone, they could only learn from their mistakes. 

“Cloud,” she spoke softly to him, like she would to a spooked, hurt animal. The likeness was there after all. “I think that’s a good plan.”

His eyes sprang back to her, surprise and confusion and something akin to hope swirling in the blue, and – he looked so vulnerable and _young_ all of a sudden, it took Tifa’s breath away, and when he opened his mouth to say something she hoped, _hoped…-_

But then his gaze dropped away once more, to fix on something she couldn’t see nor understand, and the moment was gone. All the breath Tifa had been holding left her in a quiet sigh. Why did she let herself fall for it every…

“Tifa.”

Oh. She had thought this conversation was over already. A bit startled, she managed a weak, “Ah, yes?”

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

The breath Cloud drew was shaking around the edges, but he carried on, eyebrows setting a stubborn line as he murmured, “I… when I bring it over to the church. I might pick up the things I left there. Bring them… back here.”

Tifa didn’t immediately make the connection; it was the furtive glance he snuck at her, quick and fleeting, before lowering it again, that set her off what he meant. Oh. _Oh_. The sleeping bag and clothes she and Marlene had found in the church. The hints to where Cloud had been staying the last half year, while avoiding all of them. 

A lump formed in her throat. Did he really mean…? “Cloud?”

Another quick glance, then it seemed to catch, on whatever he saw on her face. One corner of his mouth tilted up hesitantly. “If you still got space for me here… I mean.”

“Always,” there wasn’t anything else she could have said. The answer was instinct and truth both at once, but her voice had been so weak with _relief_ that Tifa shook her head vigorously and tried again, “ _Always_ , Cloud – of course there’s still _space_ for you! Your room is exactly as you left it, I kept it in good shape for when-…”

_You finally come home._

_Too much, Tifa,_ she chided herself while slamming her mouth shut mid-sentence, nearly biting her own tongue as punishment for betraying her like that. Hadn’t she learned long ago that telling Cloud too much could backfire very easily? It either got him to get a move on, or, as she feared, got him to pull back and slam all defenses back up. It was a gamble she was not willing to take, not now when he made hints of coming back to stay. If she could have, she would have taken the words back. Had she been a bit more naïve, she would have prayed to all spirits that he hadn’t heard it.

But she was not naïve, and she could see his expression open, surprise shining through bright as he blinked at her. “Tifa…”

“The kids will be glad to hear you’re back,” she crossed her arms, rubbing her bare upper arm, gaze drifting to the door to the bar behind which there were still faintly muffled voices to be heard. “They missed you so much.”

It was almost painful to watch how Cloud’s face closed off again as he nodded silently. Tifa’s heart gave a painful thump with it even as she told herself that this was familiar; this was the point in conversation where he would take her words silently, come to his own (sometimes very wrong) conclusions, and go about his day, while she went about her own, their paths diverting even while they pretended to try and walk the same road. It had been like that for two years now.

She should be used to it, by now, she reminded herself while turning around to pretend and check on their dinner.

And still it hurt like the first time.

Behind her, the rustle of clothing and leather sounded, telltale sounds of the wearer shifting his weight around indecisively. Then quiet footsteps followed, moving away from her. Tifa waited for the sound of the door handle – the short rise of the noise level when the door was opened and the sounds from the bar could filter in unhindered – the door falling closed-…

None of it came. She waited and waited, until she realized that it had been too long. What was taking Cloud so long?

And as if he read her mind, Cloud spoke up again, sounding terse, “… And you?”

“Huh?” It certainly was not the most intelligent thing to say, but it blurted out of her before Tifa could stop it when she turned around and-

_He was still there. Why was he still there?_

Only one step away from the door, Cloud stared back at her, intent and still as if preparing for a hard battle ahead, yet voice soft as breath when he elaborated “Would you be glad, too?”

For a second or two, Tifa stared back at him blankly, not understanding in the least what he meant, until she reviewed what had been said before and came to a conclusion what he was asking of her; a conclusion so ridiculous she would have snorted, hadn’t it been for the tense atmosphere. “Cloud, I just _told_ you.”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head, too-long hair whipping around it. “You said the kids would be glad; what about you, Tifa?”

She could only gap at him, incredulous. After everything she had told him – had finally gotten herself to tell him – _that_ was what he asked of her? That was what he _doubted?_

Hurt, old and new, flared up inside her, sharpened and hardened until it was cold and angry, itching under her skin and demanding to be let out. Her hands balled to fists without a conscious thought while she straightened, voice quivering while she tried to keep it even, “Of course I want you to come back! We’re a _family._ Remember?!”

The last word slipped out without Tifa’s say so, and she could see him flinch as if hit by something that could _actually_ hurt him. She found she didn’t want to take it back, the anger driving it out making her feel glad to have it said out loud.

It was not enough to deter Cloud, either. If anything, he looked even more determined than before. “You’re still not answering the question.”

“I am! Are you even listening to me?! I just _said-_ …!”

“I heard,” a beat, a moment of quiet before the storm, then “But you _also_ said that we’re not a real family.”

Now it was her who stumbled a step back as if slapped, for it felt like a blow for sure, one of the cruelest kind. Fists felt useless now so instead of keeping her hands balled up at her sides, she all but wrapped her arms around herself, defensive even as she went into the offensive, “And because _I_ said so, it’s _my_ fault now?”

Cloud’s face scrunched up, confusion and worry apparent, before resignation washed over him. He shook his head, running a shaky hand through messy hair. “That’s not – I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Good; because if anything-…”

“-… Tifa, I never thought it was _your_ -…”

“… - _I_ was not the one who _ran away!_ ”

“That’s what I _mean!_ ”

He had gotten louder now, too. Only when she listened to the echo of his voice in the tiny kitchen did Tifa really realize that, yes, at some point, her voice had climbed up a few octaves, high and loud with hurt and the need to hurt back, to even it out somehow.

It was not supposed to be like _this_ , she thought, wasn’t it supposed to be _better_ when he came back? Laughter and joy and relief, once he returned home?

Instead they stood face to face, slightly out of breath after shouting at each other over… over what, exactly?

“What _do_ you mean, then?” It almost startled her how bleak her voice sounded. How defeated.

“Just… give me a sec.” Cloud’s jaw worked visibly but silently for a moment, the hand dragging through his hair still tugging once, harshly, as if that would make the words come easier. The tension in his frame matched the one between them – near vibrating, it was so tightly wound.

Each second dragged like an hour, and it took all her years of knowing him, knowing how difficult words were for him, for Tifa not to throw up her hands in frustration and leave.

That and the knowledge that if she did, they very likely would never get a chance like this again.

Finally Cloud breathed in deeply – maybe a little shakier than he would have liked – and started, hesitantly choosing what to say word for word but speaking each firmly. “You were right. We weren’t a real family.”

Instinctively she opened her mouth to protest but he didn’t give her a chance; continued on before she could even draw a breath. “We weren’t, and that was _my_ fault _._ Because I… was stuck. And ran. Hurt the kids.”

He dragged his gaze up to hers as if it was a physical struggle, and the pain and regret meeting her in those sky-blue eyes made her reel so much, she nearly missed his last, quiet words. “Hurt _you_.”

The reassurances that, no, she was fine, lay on the tip of Tifa’s tongue. It had become second nature to her, at some point, to plaster on a smile and straighten her spine and go on as if everything was fine. To be the strong one, the one to cheer others up when they were down, even if she felt close to breaking down, herself. But in the face of the sheer honesty Cloud – Cloud _of all people_ – offered her now, she found she couldn’t uphold the image, not this time.

She nodded in confirmation, and saw him release a breath which seemed near relieved. Maybe because they finally, _finally_ talking about it, and _listening_.

“That’s what I mean,” Cloud continued, no longer staring at everything but her but finding her gaze every now and then. “I fucked up. I’m gonna do better, now, but I... I mean. I can, with the kids – they are happy already when I come ho-… when I come over. I can do that. That’s easier. I’m not gonna hurt them anymore, for sure.”

Despite the emotions roiling inside her still, Tifa couldn’t help but smile a little at the sheer stubborn determination he said it with, the little confirming nod to himself that accompanied it. _That_ was the Cloud who led them into battle, the one who wouldn’t accept anything less than victory from himself. Sometimes that drive was his downfall; in this case, it was a blessing. She was sure that he and the kids would be fine. He wouldn’t ever let himself repeat his shortcomings in regards to them.

She sensed there was more to come, however, and steeled herself. And true enough, Cloud meet her gaze head on again, not looking away this time when he added, quieter than ever, “Don’t know if I can say the same for you.”

He didn’t continue immediately, leaving her to turn that over in her mind a few times before she shook her head, pointing out not unkindly “Still not getting it, Cloud.”

Something like a self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he huffed. “I’m… I hurt you, Tifa. Maybe… _definitely_ more than the kids. And I don’t… don’t know if I won’t do it again. So…”

“So?”

“… Not sure if coming back is _good_ if that just means I’m gonna do it again.”

Whatever anger had still being lingering in her, cold and prickly, slowly drained out of her once Tifa realized what conclusion he had come to in the last few days after the battle. After their last argument. It wasn’t easy to follow, but she knew him well enough now to understand what path his mind had taken, and frankly… she found it ridiculous. She could only shake her head once it clicked, voice tripping over an incredulous laugh when she put it into words, “So you think I’m going to tell you to _stay away_ because you _could_ hurt me?”

“No. Or… yeah, kind of.” Cloud frowned slowly, mulling it over, before shrugging almost helplessly. “More like telling you to think it over-…”

“… -think over what _maybe_ could happen _sometime_ in the future?”

“Don’t think you’re getting what-….”

“I _am_ getting it!” Quickly, she realized that that had come out harsher than she had meant to; she gentled her voice and tried again with one hand raised placatingly so he wouldn’t draw back into himself again immediately. “I am getting-… Cloud, do you realize that you’re doing it again?”

At his puzzled look, she shook her head and smiled sadly. “You’re scared of something that you can’t control again.”

Realization dawned slowly on his face; she could watch it brighten his features before they set in a look that almost broke her heart, and he repeated her words from their last argument back at her: “Of something happening that can’t unhappen.”

“Exactly.”

“Tifa…” Now he looked downright frazzled when he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further, while his eyes pled with her. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this right.”

It was no longer possible in any way, to feel angry or hurt, not when he looked like that, not when he tried so hard. Helpless to do anything else, Tifa reached out, bridging the space between them so she could grab his wrist and stop him from tearing his hair out. “Cloud. Cloud, _hey_. We’re going to figure it out, okay? Together.”

They were standing so close together now, she could _feel_ the huff on her face. “You shouldn’t have to figure this out for me.”

“Who is saying anything about me doing all the work?” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, and brightened when she saw him shakily return it. “I’m just going to be there to give you some tips along the way.”

The shaky smile widened into something more real. “My teacher, again?”

“Now you get it!” Putting her free hand on her hip, she gave him a stern look, fighting her smile all the while. “Let’s see if you remember my teachings still – first rule of the slums is…”

“ _Get some rest_ ,” they finished simultaneously, only to start laughing over it once their gazes met. 

It felt good, laughing together. It unraveled the tight knot of tense and emotions which had coiled in them, around them, piece by piece. Tifa could literally feel the tension seep out of her shoulders and Cloud’s frame as they stood together, chuckling quietly, until she dared to let go of his hand and rested her forehead against his shoulder in front of her.

That seemed to startle him again, if the quick breath he took was anything to go by. For a moment she thought he would pull back – but he surprised her completely by not only staying, but also hesitantly, carefully, laying a hand between her shoulder blades. Not pulling her closer; simply resting it there.

Pleasantly surprised, Tifa raised her head to smile at him and reassure him. That was thwarted, however, by his gaze resting not on her, but staring at the wall behind her instead, a frown tugging the corner of his mouths down. Worry raising again, she asked carefully, “Cloud?”

At the sound of her voice, he closed his eyes tightly, as if in pain. “Tifa.”

“Yes?”

“… Can you answer my question?”

It took her a moment to remember the question that had started this argument, and once she did, she sighed deeply. Not because he was making her angry with the question; but rather because she would have to be honest about her emotional state for once.

But if he was willing to try, she would do her best, too.

“ _What about me,_ huh?” Tifa mused quietly. “… Well. I want us to be a family. Even if we don’t get it right on the first try, or the second. I want us to keep trying until we get it right.”

Pulling back, she reached up to cup his cheek – feeling him fall still at the touch, eyes opening in surprise – and directed his gaze back to hers. “And, most of all, I want you to come home.”

Conflicting emotions flickered over his face before Cloud pulled a slight grimace, eyes pained. “Even if…”

“… even if you _maybe_ end up getting it wrong again,” she interrupted him firmly. “You’re going to try again if you do, right? It’s going to be _fine,_ Cloud.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Again.”

“That’s sweet of you-…” without meaning to, she had to laugh at the look he gave her at that, both annoyed and disbelieving, “… yes it is, stop making that face – but, you know? Sometimes people hurt each other, even if they don’t want to.”

Growing serious again, she continued sternly, willing him to understand, “Maybe _I_ could hurt _you_ at some point, did you think about that?”

Instantly, Cloud’s expression turned into a stubborn frown. “You wouldn’t-...”

“Have I never? Said anything that hurt you, _done_ anything?”

The fact that he stayed quiet instead of insisting was answer enough. Tifa nodded knowingly, ignoring the pang of guilty _I did, didn’t I_ surging through her. “There you have it. This is a two way street, you know? _Maybe_ I will hurt you, at some point. _Maybe_ it’s the other way around. But… I don’t want us to give up without even trying, just because of that.

You asked me _what about you_ ,” stroking the thumb of her hand still cupping his face along his cheekbone, Tifa smiled up at him, equally parts sad and hopeful. “About me; I want you to come home. I want you to stay. And I want us to try and be a family, even if it hurts sometimes.”

The change in Cloud was palpable before she had even fully finished her sentence. All tension left his body so quickly, she feared for a moment his knees would simply give out; only her hand seemed to hold him upright still as he leaned harder into the touch. His eyes fluttering closed, he took a deep breath, before letting it out slowly again, the strain in his features easing and smoothing out completely as he did.

Hope flared bright and warm in Tifa’s chest, so strongly it nearly brought tears of relief to her eyes. Smiling a bit watery she prodded, “Yes?”

“Mh,” Cloud’s hand shot up as she moved to pull her own back; his grip around her wrist was gentle but firm. His eyes were nearly _too_ bright and gleaming when he opened them to look at her, a hesitant smile spreading on his face. “I… I want that.”

She could no longer stop the tears. They spilled over even as she laughed, nodded, agreeing. “Good. _Good_.”

Cloud’s smile widened even further, eyes crinkling. “You’re glad?”

If anything, that only made her laugh harder, hiccupping with the force of it. “Of course I’m _glad_ , you-…oh! Forget it!”

And with that, Tifa threw all caution out the window. She couldn’t pay any attention right now to Cloud’s awkwardness, not this one time; not when he had just agreed to _come home, to stay. S_ he surged forward and threw her arms around him, tucking herself as close as she could while she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Immediately she was enveloped not only by the familiar scent of motor oil and leather and _Cloud_ , but also by strong arms which gently wrapped around her and held her close. There was no hesitance or awkwardness in it, for once. He seemed to be of the same mind as her, breathing in deeply, shaking her slightly with it, and holding on as tight as he could without hurting her.

“Welcome back,” she whispered, fervent as a prayer, against his neck. She could have _sworn_ she felt him press his face against the top of her head for a moment at the same time he made a choked, agreeing sound, and it only made her smile so much wider.

They stayed there, wrapped up tightly in each other, for what could have been only moments or a little eternity. Tifa wouldn’t have minded if it had gone on a little longer – who knew when such a chance would come again, right? – but Cloud finally pulled back a little, not letting her go, but focusing on something outside of their little bubble. “…Is there something burning?”

“Wait, what?” Still in a daze, Tifa pulled back blinking, pressing the heel of her hand against her eyes to catch the last stray tears. After she had taken a quick whiff, she had to agree. There was something starting to smell a little too crispy…

“Oh no! The pizza!”

Pushing against Cloud’s chest maybe a little too harshly, Tifa stumbled back and whirled around to the oven.

After a flurry of opening the oven, throwing a towel over her hand at the last second, and dragging the plate out into the open air, Tifa sighed deeply in relief once she caught sight of their dinner. “Oh thank Gaia, it’s not too bad!”

She felt Cloud step closer behind her and wasn’t surprised when she felt him lean over her shoulder to get a look. “Midgar Special?”

There was something in his tone she couldn’t quiet pinpoint, but it didn’t seem to be a bad thing, so she smiled up at him hurriedly before going to work. “’Course, it’s everyone’s favorite.”

“Mh.”

“… well. A little bit crispier than usual, maybe,” sighing a little, she scrutinized the blackened edges of the crust and the dark gold cheese. Lost in thought she muttered more to herself, “If I cut of the really bad spots it could still work…” 

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think the others will mind too much if-...” Tifa interrupted herself when she thought she saw him quirk a smile out of the corner of her eyes. Curious, she turned to him, putting her hands on her hips while she demanded, “What? What’s so funny?”

Cloud raised his hands as if to defend himself, even though his lips only twitched harder at her question. “It’s -… have you been like this all evening?”

“Like what?”

“Worrying about everyone and everything.”

Tifa noticed that her jaw had dropped in outrage even before he chuckled quietly. Snapping it shut again, she tapped him on the chest with one finger, _hard_ , and spluttered, “Wha-… excuse me for trying to be a good host!”

“As if _we_ are good guests,” if her poking had any effect on him, Cloud didn’t show it. If anything, he looked more amused by the second. Had he been anyone else, he probably would have been laughing in her face by now.

The thought alone had her poke him again, even harder than before, while trying to fight her own smile. “Are you calling me a mother hen right now, Strife?”

His eyebrows rose as if to say _did you hear me say that?_ which finally made her break down with laughter, her posture of indignation breaking as she laughed until she couldn’t breathe.

Once she had calmed down enough to look up at him again without falling back into giggling, Cloud was watching her with something soft in his eyes that made her breath catch all over again, for a completely different reason.

“Go join the others.”

“Huh?”

Canting his head towards the door to the bar, Cloud repeated, “Go on.”

“Oh, but…” Tifa gesticulated towards the plate of pizza, protest on her tongue. But he only shook his head, crossing his arms strictly. “I’ve got this.”

“ _I’m_ the barkeep, you don’t have to-…”

“You haven’t sat down all evening.”

He said it as a statement, not a question, and Tifa slowly closed her mouth again while blushing lightly, because, damn it all, when had he become good at reading her? Wasn’t it supposed to be the entirely other way around?

There was smugness in the smirk spreading on Cloud’s face, but he was smart enough not to say _Gotcha_ or anything else that would have made her hit him. He only tilted his head again and drawled, slowly as if reciting from memory, “First rule of the slums...”

“… get some rest.” Tifa all but groaned the words, even when she had to laugh over it. “When did _you_ become the teacher, here?”

She only got a snort in response, and somehow that was when she knew she had lost. Defeated, she threw her hands up and declared, “Alright, fine, you got me.”

Blue eyes brightened with laughter, and he pointed patiently towards the kitchen door, until she huffed at him and turned around gracefully, with all the dignity she could still muster while being thrown out of her own domain.

Only once she had stepped back out into the bar room, the sound of talk and laughter swapping over her like a wave, did Tifa allow the giddy smile to spread on her face. Dizzy with relief and the rush of everything that had just happened, she leaned back against the kitchen door for a moment until her knees didn’t feel like jelly anymore and her heartbeat had slowed to a normal pace again.

“Welcome home,” she whispered to no one in particular, just to hear it again and make sure it was real. Only then did she push off the door and went to join the others.

Her heart felt light and everything seemed just a little warmer and brighter, and some of those feelings must have shown on her face; as soon as she was in range, Cid looked at her oddly and questioned, “Somethin’ good happen with the dinner?”

“Hmmm? Why?”

“ _Why?_ You’re grinning all the way from one ear to the other, girl.”

He was absolutely right, Tifa noted even before the pilot had finished painting an invisible line on his own face to demonstrate, she had been smiling widely the whole time without even noticing it. And by now, everyone around the table had noticed and was looking at her curiously.

Laughing quietly – because how could she not – Tifa shrugged, aiming for innocent, and explained, “I got kicked out of the kitchen.”

“That is an odd thing to be smiling about,” quipped Nanaki even while he started to smile himself. “But it is good to see you happy.”

“Thank you, Nanaki.”

“Need some help preparing dinner?” Barret offered, already pushing half out of his seat to go help if necessary. Tifa waved him off, biting the inside of her cheek as not to say too much. “That’s sweet, but no, it’s gonna be out in a second.”

“Oh good!” He let himself fall back onto his chair with a force that made the wood groan and Marlene giggle, and patted his belly. “’Cause I don’t know about you, but any longer and I would start to lose weight!”

Before anyone else could pick up the very obvious chance for a quip, a quiet voice somehow, miraculously, cut easily through the talk and chatter, commanding attention without even trying, amusement swinging in every word, “Losing some weight wouldn’t hurt you.”

A moment of baffled silence followed; everyone craned their necks around to see who had talked, and exclamation ranging from surprise to fake outrage wandered around the table.

“Ah.”

“You’re late!”

“Spikey, there you are!”

“Want to repeat that to my face?!” Barret demanded loudly with a wide smile, making an aborted motion towards the younger as if to wrestle him into headlock and deciding against it at the last second.

“Sure. As many times as you want,” Cloud’s eyes were flashing brightly, the only thing about his expression that gave away his mirth.

“ _Cloud!_ ” Both Marlene and Denzel had been sighting there in stunned silence, eyes wide and hopeful, and only now came back to life; their screams of excitement were simultaneous, as was the scrambling to get off their respective seats and rushing over to get to the man. Cloud barely had the time to lift the still hot tray he was holding high enough so it was save, before both children crashed into him, arms flung around his belly and waists, and held on tightly, faces hidden in his shirt.

Tifa could _watch_ Cloud’s expression melt from startled surprise into something so soft she could barely look at it, and had to blink fast to keep the wetness out of her own eyes when he gingerly freed one hand from his load to reach down and muse up the kids’ hair, muttering something under his breath that made them laugh and smile up at him again. Somewhere off to the side, Barret cleared his throat a bit too strongly, and Cid laughed quietly.

The peaceful atmosphere was broken by a loud, gurgling growl. Half a dozen pair of eyes swung around, accusing gazes turning to Yuffie, who threw her hands over her belly and announced, “What?! This is all super cute, but I’m _hungry!_ ”

A snort broke free before Tifa could help it, and when she caught sight of Reeve hiding his face in his hand, shoulders shaking with mirth, she broke down completely and laughed outright, even over the annoyed groans of their other friends.

Cloud rolled his eyes at the entirety of them and huffed, nodding towards the table. “Then make room. Before she starves.”

Murmured agreement sounded; people scooted closer together none too carefully, glasses and plates were nearly swiped off the table to make room, and someone dragged two chairs over. In record time, Tifa found herself gently manhandled onto a seat, and Cloud was slipping into the seat next to her.

It still felt kind of surreal, seeing him here, smiling that small smile of his and looking more relaxed than she had seen him in… maybe ever. Tifa stared unabashedly, both soaking it in and trying to get used to it, long enough that he caught her doing it when he glanced her way, and lifted an eyebrow. “…Something wrong?”

“Mh,” Tifa shook her head with a smile, unabashed in her observation. “It’s just nice. Seeing you.”

It took him aback; she could tell by the way he blinked rapidly, expression smoothing out, and only really understanding after a beat. His cheeks flushed a hint, Cloud ducked his head, clearing his throat quietly. It only made her smile harder. When he glanced up at her and caught her nearly grinning at him, he narrowed his eyes at her before his gaze softened again, and he nodded silently.

_Me too._

The silent agreement made her heart trip with joy, and she was fighting her own flush of pleasure when she tuned back in to the conversations around her, absentmindedly reaching for a slice of pizza herself. Cid and Barret were wrapped up in something that sounded to technical and mechanical for her too really follow, Marlene curled up on her father’s lap all the while and gnawing on her food while regaling Nanaki with a story. Reeve and Denzel were engrossed in a quiet conversation opposite of Tifa, the boy’s eyes shining while he talked with his hands moving wildly and the man listening intently. And Vincent and Yuffie…

Well, those two hadn’t gotten any further, Tifa noted with a lopsided smile, taking pity on the ninja when she threw her hands up in a way that made Vincent scowl even more. “No luck yet, Yuffie?”

“Tifa,” the younger woman said with a levity very rare for her, nose wrinkled in annoyance. How she managed to look aloof with a half-eaten slice of pizza flopping around in her hand, one would never know. “Fighting another Bahamuth _alone_ is easier than arguing to him.”

Not pointing out that she shouldn’t try then was a moot point, so Tifa didn’t even attempt it. It was the challenge itself that made Yuffie try even harder, and she knew that _Vincent_ knew that, too. She also knew that he was going to give in at some point, anyway, just like he always did. But until then, this would be a constant tug-of-war…

Next to her, Cloud shifted in his seat, arm brushing hers as he reached across the table towards Vincent, flat palm up. “Hand it over.”

And as the two women watched on in stunned silence, Vincent handed over his phone without the slightest hesitation, offering no protest at all as Cloud leaned back in his chair and started typing a number in.

“Wha-… how… _what?!_ ” It was quite possible the first time since they knew her, maybe even the first time in her entire life, that Yuffie Kisaragi was at a loss for words, gaping with wide eyed shock at Vincent first, then Cloud, and back again. The state didn’t last long, however; one hand on her hip, the other slapping the Ex-Turk on the shoulder, food be damned, she demanded with a voice high in offense, “How come Cloud gets to give you his number, and I don’t?!” 

“He still needs to phone in his verdict,” Vincent’s voice was even and unapologetic while he watched Cloud avidly, eyes bright with _something._ The words didn’t make sense to her, at all, but Tifa saw the corner of Cloud’s mouth tick up, and supposed that it meant something for him.

“And now he speaks in riddles!” Yuffie threw her hands up, gaze directed to the ceiling in a mock prayer. “Ye gods, please let this man make _sense_ at some _-…”_

A low buzzing sounded interrupted her. Seamlessly she dropped the despairing act to pick her phone out her pocket, flipping it open to take a look, and froze. When she looked up again, her eyes were wide and bright and directed at Cloud in such a bewildered look as if he had just grown a second head. “Cloudy, is that-…?”

“You wanted the number,” Cloud pointed out, not even looking at her when tossed the phone back at Vincent, who snatched it out of the air with ease.

The shriek Yuffie let out startled everyone around the table into silence for a beat, and while everyone still stared at her, she rushed around the table and threw her arms around a rigid Cloud in a hug so fierce, anyone else would have been tackled off the chair. “Spikey-head, you’re the _best of the best!”_

“Welcome. Now move on.”

“Sure thing!” Grinning wildly and not just a little deviously, Yuffie chirped _“Don’t get jealous Tifa!”_ before dropping a big, smacking kiss onto Cloud’s cheek. Ignoring the way he pulled a face, she let go and jumped away around the table towards Cid, cackling madly all the while. “Look what I got, guys!” 

“… Good to know that some things never change,” Tifa noted fondly.

“Those things are called Yuffie,” Cloud muttered, wiping off his cheek with his glove and a disgusted little sound, much to her amusement.

Across the table, Vincent huffed something between a laugh and a grunt, and the men exchanged a long, quiet look that seemed to carry an entire conversation only they could understand, since Cloud smirked and shrugged, answering to absolutely nothing, “You didn’t stop me.”

Vincent seemed that to accept with a nod, or at least he didn’t try to argue the point.

Tifa could only shake her head over them. “You know that’s kind of spooky when you both do this talking without talking, right? “

The way they both absolutely simultaneously glanced her way and shrugged wasn’t any better, either.

“Hey!” Barret’s booming voice made all of them wince a bit. Tapping a beat onto the table with his knuckles, he continued only once he held their attention, “Anyone up for a good ol’ round of darts?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Why do we need an occasion?”

“Daddy is the _best_ at darts!” Marlene nodded very seriously while declaring that. Tifa was fairly sure she saw Barret’s cheeks turn a bit darker at that while he cleared his throat.

“There’s the occasion,” Vincent said lowly, making Cloud snort.

“Oh shu-… _can_ it!” Checking furtively if his daughter had heard him nearly slip up, Barret jabbed his thumb over to the dart board on the wall, well-known and well-loved. “Are you in or not?!”

“’M in,” Cid muttered around his cig, waving a hand through the air. Yuffie followed that up by high-fiving the pilot and declaring, “Cid is on my team!”

“There are teams?” Nanaki inquired, looking from one to the other.

“Uh now there are?”

“Been a while since I played this…” Reeve admitted, shrugging sheepishly.

“No prob! Vinnie, team up with him!”

“… I never said I’m playing…”

“Aw come on! Sleepyhead! Bore! Lame!”

“How is insulting him gonna help?!”

“I’m in.”

“ _It helped?!”_

In the middle of the back and forth, Tifa felt someone press against her side, and made more room so Denzel could slip in between her and Cloud with a muttered apology. Smiling, she ruffled his hair, even when he huffed for show. His gaze wandered from her to Cloud, a question in his eyes, and she nodded encouragingly.

Seemingly strengthened, Denzel tugged at the man’s shirt to get his attention. “Hey, Cloud?”

“Mh?” Blue eyes tore away from the arguing group he had been watching with a lopsided smile, and Cloud’s full attention lay on the child looking up at him with pure adoration.

“You’re good at darts, too, right?” Denzel’s eyes were hopeful, his smile a little cheeky. “I bet you are!”

Tifa had to clap a hand over her mouth as not laugh when Cloud’s smile widened into a cheeky little smirk himself. Leaning over closer to the boy, he muttered, “First rank on the old list.”

“I _knew it!”_ Denzel beamed wide and triumphant, before he grew hesitant again. Opening his mouth, he seemed to decide against saying more, and cleared his throat. “Uh…”

Cloud’s hand landed on the boy’s head, interrupting his beginning stammer, and ruffled his hair gently. “Want to team up with me, Denzel?”

“Can I?!” Relief flooded the boy’s face for a second, before he pulled a grimace. “Uh, I’ve never played before.”

“Hm. Need some backup then.” Cloud’s gaze jumped from the boy to Tifa, catching her in observing them contentedly. “You in?”

“Huh?” Reeling for a second, Tifa recovered almost instantly when Denzel looked up at her, plea in his eyes, and laughed. “Sure thing!”

Denzel cheered loudly, fist in the air, and it made her smile, it really did – but it was Cloud’s little, private smile that made her grin back toothily, heart light.

“Alright, alright – will you guys listen?!” Barret clapped his hands multiple times, grinning when the others protested half-heartedly. “Everyone got teamed up? Everyone in? Who is counting points?”

Several muttered agreements and high-fives, and Nanaki lashed his tail, tipping his head in acknowledgement. “I will keep count. Throwing would be… difficult.”

“Pretty sure you could manage somehow,” they shared a grin, then Barret sobered up again, “So, all good to go? Wait… uh.”

He hesitated, took a deep breath, before muttering darkly under his breath. The others exchanged glances, unsure what had caused the hold up. Tifa caught Cloud’s eyes over Denzel’s head, but he, as well, could only shrug in confusion. 

Before they could speak up, Barret seemed to have made up his mind for he raised his voice, addressing – much to everyone’s surprise - the only other occupied table in the room. “Hey, over there! Any of you guys know how to play good round of darts?”

Whatever quiet conversation the turks had been having amongst themselves cut off abruptly, and they exchanged quick looks. Reno leaned back in his chair in such a way that sent it nearly tipping backwards, the only things holding it up being sheer luck and spite, and asked with a finger pointing at himself, “Huuuuh? You mean us?”

“Do you see anyone _else_ -…!” Barret cut himself off with a deep breath, muttering “I’m already regretting this” before continuing in a tensely even tone, “Yes, you. So?”

Another pause followed, another round of glances. Then Rude’s lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, Elena sighed quietly, and Reno’s smirk grew into a full-blown grin before he swung back around. “Well, if you guys want to lose so badly… why not?”

The entire room seemed to release a breath they had been holding in anticipation, and immediately, Yuffie threw her hand up to cry, “Elena’s on my team!”

Startled and surprised laughter bubbled up at that, dispelling the last of the lingering tension in the room like sunlight cutting through heavy clouds.

Chairs scrapped over wooden floor as everyone got up, shoulders and elbows and knees bumped in all the bustling as they tried to fit everyone around the dart board in a somewhat orderly fashion. There were already barbs and quips being fired around the group, faster than bullets, but nobody seemed to really mind, snarking back with grins and guffaws or simply shrugging it off and rolling with it.

Tifa knew better than to immediately join the bustle and hustle, favoring to stay in her seat instead of being jostled around and nearly deafened in the middle of the group. Observing instead of mingling, her chin resting in her palm, and letting contentment wash over her.

_We’re here. We’re gonna be alright._

The sound of a throat being cleared quietly pulled her from her reverie and she look up to see Cloud offering her a hand. Once their gazes met, he smiled – the small, easy one that reached his eyes, the one she hadn’t seen in months from him – and tilted his head towards the group. “Let’s see how it goes?”

It sounded innocent enough but after their last conversation, Tifa knew better, looked closely enough to see the hesitant hope in his eyes and knew he was asking for more than a game of darts. She didn’t have any hesitation, none at all, when she took his hand, tight and sure, and answered with a wide smile “Yes, let’s.”

When they smiled at each other, fingers linking tightly with no intention of letting go soon, it felt like a new promise all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Hey Aerith? No worries. We’re going to be fine – promise._

**_Thank you._ **


End file.
